Black and Blue
by 1985laurie
Summary: My take on a tricky case for House Lots of House Angst and Humour! No longer a oneshot, no pairings! Read&Review! Chapter 10 up now...no spoilers... Now finished! Complete!
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note – Just something I fancied writing last night, sorry if it doesn't make sense – just a small look at the Cuddy/House workplace relationship. No ships/slash. Just a one shot for now – enjoy!**

Cuddy sighed as she heard a soft groan come from her sofa. House was slowly regaining consciousness and she watched him bring a hand up to his cheekbone to find bruised flesh. He winced silently and slid himself into a sitting position, taking extra care of his leg and head.

"Please tell me they treated the kid." He asked warily as he looked over to see his boss watching him, "or I may have to reconsider my career as a human punch bag."

"For some insane reason he actually agreed to do it your way…after he knocked you out he felt a lot better about it." She smirked unsympathetically.

"I wouldn't count on this happening every time I need consent you know – I could end up getting hurt." He feigned looking upset by sticking his bottom lip out, which made Cuddy smile.

"If you went through the normal channels like everybody else then you wouldn't have gotten punched in the face."

"True…but my patient would be dead" House stated slowly, his head throbbing, "Where's my cane?"

"I've sent Wilson to get you another."

"Why…has it been kidnapped?"

"Not exactly…" she said as she held up his cane which was now in two pieces; House rolled his eyes in annoyance and sunk back into the sofa; clearly he wouldn't be leaving Cuddy's office any time soon. She continued with her paperwork, not wanting to make too much of a fuss of House, he was a big boy and she was sure it wasn't the first time he'd been knocked out. Plus it was nice to know where he was for a change; at least he was out of trouble for now; no angry relatives threatening to rearrange his face!

"So…how come you're here so late?" House started, clearly bored and keen to pass the time it would take Wilson to find him another cane; his leg hurt after falling on it and he was in no mood to try limping out to his bike, which he was sure he was too dizzy to even ride at the moment.

"My Best Diagnostician was laid out about 20 minutes ago and I thought I'd wait for him to regain consciousness before I left for the night." Cuddy said without looking up from her paperwork.

"You worried about your Brilliant Diagnostician?"

"I never said you were brilliant."

"Oh my – you were talking about me? I thought you were talking about some other Diagnostician" House pretended to be shocked by putting his hand up to his mouth, "you should go – I'm fine."

"If you think I'm crazy enough to leave you in my office unsupervised then you're very much mistaken!" Cuddy scoffed as she started packing paperwork into a briefcase (she was obviously going to have one hell of a wild night at home!), "plus, you look like hell."

"Fair point" House agreed, "how long does it take for Wilson to get a damn cane, does he have no sense of urgency?" he moaned impatiently after a few seconds of silence.

"Hey, he was worried about you and wouldn't leave till you were on that sofa – if it had been the other way round I'm sure you would have left him sprawled out on the floor; but luckily he isn't you...lucky for everyone" She teased lightly, "and he practically dragged the guy off of you!"

"How very heroic…" House said, not quite adding enough sarcasm for Cuddy to believe that he wasn't touched by his friend looking out for him, "what happened anyway?"

"You don't remember?" Cuddy said, looking up from her paperwork at last to wonder if maybe House had a more serious head injury than she had first thought.

"Don't give me that look – I'm fine! I remember shouting and the guy grabbing my arm to stop me leaving…then nothing...so what happened?"

30 minutes earlier…

Cuddy was about to leave her office and head home when her most troublesome department head decided to grace her with his presence.

"Dr Cuddy!" He practically shouted as he barged through her door without knocking, "this idiot won't let me treat his son."

The 'idiot' in question, Cuddy noticed, was the father of the Diagnostic department's newest patient. The man hated House as soon as he met him; it probably had something to do with the fact that House had refused to meet the patient and his family for three days and it took the father over 2 hours to finally track him down only to find him sleeping in his office.

"I'm sure Mr Howard has a perfectly good reason to deny his son treatment" Cuddy began the speech she had perfected over the years she had House working for her, "may I ask why you are refusing treatment Mr Howard?"

The huge lump of a man known as Mr Howard towered over her desk, he was absolutely fuming; Cuddy hoped that House hadn't started treatment behind his back just to piss him off further – it was the kind of thing she had to deal with on a regular basis.

"He said Andrew had Mono – he cured it and now he thinks it something else completely – he doesn't know and he wants me to consent to him cutting my son open because he's not sure!" Howard spat the words at her is disgust.

"House?"

"He had Autoimmune haemolytic anaemia and Infectious Mononucleosis – which was treated but he's still sick – despite what this moron says." House argued, rolling his eyes at the father, "he won't let me do my job."

"He's not that sick – I'm taking him home, I can't afford to stay here while he invents things that my son does not have just so he can get some cushy grant at the end of the year!" the man fumed back raising his voice at the last part, "he has no fever and his throat is better now – you are not cutting into my son!"

"What's the 'cutting open' his son part about?" Cuddy asked, not really sure if she understood why House was insisting on keeping a patient in the hospital – usually he couldn't wait to ship them out.

"I need to do a biopsy to diagnose non-Hodgkin lymphoma – but if you'd rather I waited for the autopsy results then that's fine, I'm going home!" House said sarcastically as he made to leave the office.

"House!" Cuddy said sternly; she did not want to be stuck with this angry man, "Mr Howard, I trust Dr House knows what's best for your son-"

"The doctors we went to before thought it was Mono and he didn't get better when they treated him-" Mr Howard was pacing the office during his rant which unsettled House who leant over his cane, both hands resting on top of the handle.

"Autoimmune haemolytic anaemia and Infectious Mononucleosis – not your ordinary case of Mono" House said exasperated, "Your son has non-Hodgkin lymphoma-I just need the biopsy to confirm it-"

"Mr Howard, your son needs this treatment, I'll call Dr Wilson to give you a second opinion and hopefully he can explain it a little better..." Cuddy took control of the situation seeing that it was getting out of hand with the two men shouting at each other; she paged Wilson, maybe this guy just hated House and that's why he wouldn't accept his diagnosis – it wasn't an uncommon situation!

"I've explained it so even a monkey could understand it...he just thinks his son's health isn't worth taking time off work for – I agree, let him die just so you can save up for his college fund – oh no, wait! You can't because he'll be dead." House turned to leave again, frustrated and annoyed, but Mr Howard was having none of it and grabbed his arm causing him to turn back.

"You're not leaving." He growled viciously, "You…you don't know anything about my life-"

"I know that your son is malnourished and yet you seem to be at least 60 pounds overweight. I know that while your son came in with clothes that seemed to be three sizes too small for him despite the fact he's underweight; you are wearing an Italian suit that's tailored to fit your pathetically flabby gut-"

House was cut short on his lecture by a strong fist which caught him directly on the left cheekbone causing him to fall backwards, strike his head on the door frame and knock him unconscious. Cuddy, who had been sitting through the entire ordeal so far with her head in her hands, shot up when she saw her employee slump against the frame and heard the sickening thud of House's head against the frame. She looked over to Mr Howard, wondering if he'd do anything stupid if she chanced a call to security, he still looked edgy and very wound up, pretty much the reaction a lecture from House would provoke in any person. Mr Howard simply took House's cane which had fallen from under his grasp and snapped it over his knee, throwing it at House's still form.

Wilson chose that moment to wander into Cuddy's reception area, half engrossed in a patient file; he strode in through her door then stopped short as he took in House laying against the door frame and the two halves of his cane draped over his groin area, "Err, everything ok?" he asked innocently.

Cuddy shot him a 'does everything look ok?' look which Wilson ignored and carried on talking, "I take it he told you the results of the biopsy."

"Results? He hasn't even got my consent yet!" Howard fumed; Cuddy was right, House had just gone behind the guys back as usual – she was annoyed but not surprised at this news.

"That explains why he dragged Mr Howard here then." Cuddy sighed putting her hands up in an 'I give up' motion.

"You son of a-" Howard shouted as he grabbed a handful of House's collar and tried to drag him up; Wilson had to intercept – he couldn't believe that this guy was trying to beat up an unconscious cripple…then again this was House and who knows what he'd said to get him wound up in the first place!

"Mr Howard, your son has non-Hodgkin lymphoma, I suggest you go and sit with him and prepare him for when we tell him." Wilson said in his best intimidating tone while virtually hanging off the guy's huge arm, trying to stop him form striking House again.

"House was right?" Cuddy questioned, immediately kicking herself; of course House was right, he wouldn't have made such a fuss if he didn't know he was right, stubborn ass!

"He was right?" Howard repeated, looking down at House; he let go of his collar, looking as though it had just burnt a hole in his hand, and House dropped back down to the floor with a thud.

"Go and sit with your son." Cuddy ordered, her voice faltering slightly.

The colour drained from Howard's face before he snapped himself out of his stupor and stormed out of Cuddy's office, presumably to find his son.

Cuddy let out the breath she hadn't realised she was holding while Wilson leant down to check on House, who was starting to develop a nasty bruise on his cheek, not the kind of injury to knock a guy out though; he looked at Cuddy questioningly.

"Doorframe" she said as she walked over to help him check House.

"He's gonna have a pretty bad concussion" Wilson warned, "help me get him on the sofa, don't want him waking up on the floor – he won't be able to stand."

They managed to half carry, half drag House's limp form to the sofa after Wilson did a quick check over to make sure there was no serious neck injury to contend with; he found a large lump forming on the back of House's head where he had caught the frame – 'ouch.'

"You should go, he'll be pissed when he wakes up and he'll probably take it out on the first person he sees" Wilson told Cuddy as he did a vitals check; he didn't particularly want to be on the receiving end of House's bad mood, but he was the only person who could brush it off as House being House so it would probably be best for all concerned if he stayed!

"I'll stay – go and get him a cane, I'm sure he keeps a spare in his office." Cuddy insisted much to Wilson's amazement.

"Err, ok – I'd better check on the family too, it's my patient now I guess." Wilson added as he backed out of the room.

"I'll page you when he wakes up"

Back to the Present…

"You haven't paged him" House said flatly; his head was killing him and it hurt to hear the sound of his own voice, especially after hearing Cuddy describe the sound his head made when it connected with her door frame.

"No…" Cuddy stated, still sorting paperwork to take home with her.

"Okay…any particular reason why you've got me trapped here? I mean I've got some pretty wild fantasies that involve me being trapped in your office with you…"

Cuddy smiled and made her way to the coat stand, putting her coat on and turning to face House, "You were right about the father and the kid."

"Yeah…I already knew that though, way to state the obvious."

"I don't encourage my Doctors to distract family members while other Doctors are busy performing biopsy's to prove their crazy theories-"

"Wouldn't recommend it." House interrupted, wincing as he felt the lump on the back of his head.

"But…I'm going to pretend that what you did was for the best of your patient" She looked to House, who nodded slightly in agreement, "so…well done..."

"Huh?" House shot Cuddy a glazed over look, maybe he had hit his head harder than he thought – Cuddy was actually thanking him for breaking the rules, this was unexpected to say the least!

"Next time you may want to sit down when you're going head to head with a giant ape or you could hurt yourself." Cuddy declared, grinning at his confused look.

"I'm guessing that guy wasn't a donor…" House mumbled, frowning to himself.

"You may want to put some ice on that" Cuddy motioned to his cheekbone before holding the door open for Wilson and leaving for the night.

"Hey, how's your head?" Wilson asked airily as he handed House his cane.

"I think there may be serious permanent damage" House said seriously, "I'm pretty sure Cuddy just thanked me…" he finished by trailing off and giving Wilson a questioning look, causing Wilson to grin foolishly and shake his head.

"I'm sure it was just the concussion clouding your perception; she'll be back to yelling at you tomorrow." Wilson assured as he helped House off of the sofa and led him out through the clinic…


	2. Chapter 2

"You're not seriously considering riding home on that?" Wilson exclaimed as House gingerly headed over to his bike.

"I don't 'seriously consider' anything…and you should know that by now" House replied cheekily but still lacking in his usual bite; his head was killing him and Jiminy Cricket-Wilson wasn't helping.

"You're concussed"

"It took you how many years of medical training to come up with that – did the fact that I was knocked unconscious support that startling diagnosis Doctor?"

"You were out for over 15 minutes – that's grade 5 concussion"

"Thinking of changing professions Jimmy…didn't have you down as a Neurologist – the patients aren't needy enough." House teased as he tried to put his crash helmet on without aggravating the bump on his head; he couldn't do it, which annoyed him further, "Crap…." He sighed and looked over to Wilson who was doing his best to look angry by standing with his hands on his hips, "Oh you win, go and fetch your boringmobile – I'm not walking, it's not my fault you park 2 miles away from the hospital." He moaned.

Wilson smirked and walked off to get his car leaving House to concentrate on standing by his bike; 'Jesus, so dizzy…head is killing me – note to self: wear crash helmet when talking to disgruntled family members in the future' he thought as he braced himself against his bike waiting for Wilson to return.

Wilson didn't like the look of House when the headlights of his car showed the awkward way in which he was holding himself up; he watched House let go of his death grip on the bike and stumble over to his car. He was certain that he'd end up on his arse and felt strangely relieved when House managed to climb unsteadily into the passenger seat without assistance.

"Yell if you're gonna puke so I can pull over, just had the car valeted." Wilson explained as he noted House's sickly complexion. House groaned in response and proceeded to fiddle with Wilson's radio in an attempt to drown out his voice.

House made it the whole journey without retching, which impressed Wilson, especially after a particularly bumpy ride through construction works. It was only when they got out of the car that the dizziness caught him off guard and he staggered two steps away from Wilson's car, dropped to his knees and threw up over the pavement. Wilson winced sympathetically and helped his friend up, supporting him as they made their way to House's apartment.

"I don't remember concussion being this crappy" House moaned as he attempted to walk smoothly into his bedroom; any sudden movements were excruciatingly painful.

"Yeah, you must have the bad kind of concussion – not the good kind." Wilson said sarcastically whilst rolling his eyes.

"Cut the sarcasm…it doesn't suit you" House said weakly as he downed two Vicoden, hopefully it would dull the pain without making the room spin much faster.

Wilson entered the bedroom with some ice wrapped up in a towel, "for your face" he explained, causing House to give him a disbelieving look.

"I didn't hit my head that hard" He muttered as he took the towel and held it against his cheekbone, "okay…see you tomorrow"

"Actually I wasn't planning on leaving just yet" Wilson protested as House feebly attempted to push him away from the bed, "let me see"

House let Wilson prod the swollen area a few times, hoping that it would lead to him getting bored and going home…no such luck.

"It could be broken" Wilson acknowledged as he observed House flinch every time he pressed a certain part of the bruised area, "probably fractured…"

"You know contrary to popular belief, you do not have healing hands…so go home. It will still be 'probably broken' tomorrow." House urged, hoping Wilson would take the hint and leave; House had some important business involving spewing his guts up into the toilet, he didn't want an audience.

"Big baby" Wilson teased as he stood to leave, "take the next couple of days off and if you need anything just give me a call"

"Actually there are special numbers that I can call if I need anything" House hinted subtly as he transferred the towel of ice to the back of his head.

"I'm sure your hooker will be pleased when you throw up over her nice day glow dress"

"Actually she's a black dress kinda gal...at least I from what I can remember…don't recall her even wearing a dress last time she came over-" House said thoughtfully.

"Don't want to know!" Wilson shouted as he screwed up his face and backed out of the room, "just do what you usually do and take it easy" he added before exiting the apartment, leaving House slumped on his bed, his arm aching from holding the ice to the back of his head…

Meanwhile back at PPTH…

14 year old Andrew Howard sat in his hospital bed in the company of Cuddy; he was engulfed in telling her about his older brother who was in the army and was travelling the world. Cuddy was hypnotised by the young man's knowledge of foreign land, he brushed it off by explaining that he read a lot of books at home. She sighed when she realised that she really had to get home and sort out the paperwork that threatened to drown her; she had planned on leaving when Wilson and House had left earlier but she found herself drawn to the boy who had caused so much trouble that night, especially after she found out that his father had gone awol.

Surprisingly Andrew had guessed about why his father had not returned, "He's angry again isn't he – who'd he hit this time?"

"He was pretty angry; he hit your Doctor after he found out some news-"

"When he found out I've got cancer." Andrew interrupted, startling Cuddy; she hadn't realised that he knew he had cancer.

"How did you find out?"

"Dr House came by and explained it to me before my dad went looking for him."

"Dr House shouldn't have done that…" Cuddy began, trying to figure out why House continued to do things with the main motive to piss her off.

"My dad wanted to take me home, Dr House knew I was still sick – I'm glad he told me." Andrew said matter-of-factly.

"But your father said House hasn't been in to see you since you were admitted."

"I had to lie to him about that to get him to go and find Dr House so the other doctors could do a biopsy – it was part of our plan and it worked; he stormed off looking for him about 4 hours ago…so which doctor did he hit?"

"Dr House."

"Ouch, hope he doesn't find out that I had a part in setting him up" Andrew said looking slightly scared at the thought.

"I'm sure Dr House will take full responsibility for your actions…I'll make sure your father won't find out." She reassured him, hoping that for once House would take responsibility for his actions too.

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Cuddy saw that he looked like he needed to get to sleep, "get some rest, your treatment starts tomorrow." She said quietly as she gathered up her coat and briefcase; cursing herself for keeping him up when he should be preparing for the gruelling chemo he would be starting soon.

As she turned to leave she noticed Andrews heart monitor rising rapidly, she frowned and reached over to take his pulse, "Andrew-are you okay"

"…Tired…" he mumbled before his heart monitor flat lined.

"Need a crash cart in here!"

**Author's note - Hope you liked that chapter? I'm trying to keep a balance between the focus on House and his patient; next chapter has more of Wilson and the ducklings. Reviews are more than welcome! **


	3. Chapter 3

The ducklings entered the conference room in good spirits; they were pleased that they seemed to have gotten away with the biopsy they had performed the previous night and they each got to leave without House collaring them to run any more tests.

So none of them were prepared to find their boss in before them, reading up on Andrew Howard's case notes; they were especially unprepared to find that he had started a DDX on a sheet of paper, without them, on the patient they sent over to Oncology the night before; something was seriously up.

"You're in early." Chase stated in a surprised tone; it was unusual to see House in the conference room let alone in the hospital before nine, "what happened to your face?"

"Never try to beat Cuddy at strip poker; she gets aggressive when she loses." House stated without looking up from the files on the table, "got a patient."

"What happened?" Cameron asked, clearly not believing the strip poker line.

"Cardiac Arrest, we cured the autoimmune haemolytic anaemia and Infectious Mononucleosis and diagnosed him with Non-Hodgkin Lymphoma but he still has anaemia…why? Ok, Go!"

"You're talking about the Howard kid?"

"So it would seem…" House said just as Wilson burst into the conference room.

"Why are you here; you should be at home?"

"Working here" House replied, trying his best to look engrossed in the files.

"You have no cases-"

"Tell that to the kid we thought we cured yesterday"

"You didn't cure him; you just proved he has cancer"

"Yeah well...it usually amounts to the same thing."

"How does it amount to the same thing?"

"We cure them, we never see them again; we diagnose them with cancer, we never see them again – see, same outcome"

"So why are you still working on him?"

"Well obviously we haven't finished diagnosing him yet…have you even been to see Cuddy yet or were you just planning on annoying me all morning?" House asked, irritated by Wilson's questions.

"I saw you through the window – I was hoping you were just a mirage; but no, it seems you really are idiotic enough to come into work when you're sick."

"Well if you had been in to see Cuddy you'd know that the kids still sick…much sicker than me"

"Yeah, we get it - he has cancer" Foreman interrupted, "he can't exactly get much sicker"

"Well given that his heart decided to go into overdrive last night and managed to go into cardiac arrest…I'm thinking maybe he has something worse than cancer"

"He's my patient – why wasn't I called?" Wilson frowned as he picked up the file, "it says that Cuddy was the attending…"

"Yeah – you think that's relevant? She could have been wearing an extremely low cut top – it'd make my blood pressure rise…not sure about putting me in cardiac arrest though-" House mused, getting the ducklings and Wilson exasperated further.

"I mean have you spoken to Cuddy about what happened?" Wilson said forcefully to House who was still leant over the desk with the file in his hand.

"Maybe it was stress" Chase offered; trying to look over House's shoulder at the file.

"Right…'cos otherwise healthy 14 year olds are prone to heart failure when they're stressed – it explains those pesky mortality rates during high school entry exams" House said with biting sarcasm, "thanks for playing though…anyone else want to hazard a guess or should we just hope it's an uncommon side affect to the lymphoma and let Wilson deal with it?"

"Oh keep the damn case" Wilson sighed, "whatever makes you happy"

"Don't sulk, he's still got cancer – we can share can't we" House whined.

"What's so special about this kid – usually you're shipping them out of your department quicker than it takes for the diagnosis to enter your head!"

"He's a nice kid…plus he hates his dad – so we have something in common."

"You hate your dad?" Cameron asked, causing House to groan.

"No – I hate _his_ dad, weren't you listening? Now go take some blood."

"We have blood-"

"His heart nearly exploded – something's changed, get blood and find out what it is!" House shouted weakly, looking up from the files for the first time since they had entered the room.

Chase left first, unwilling to be on the end of another one of House's bad moods; Foreman scooped up the file from under House's nose and Cameron gave her boss a worried frown before walking out to join the others, leaving Wilson to lecture House alone.

"You should have stayed at home."

"I know."

"So why didn't you?"

"Cuddy called after the kid arrested just after 10"

"You've been here _all night_?" Wilson questioned, not believing his ears.

"Couldn't sleep – my head feels like it's going to explode and I've been throwing up all over the place."

"So you're planning on staying awake 'till the pain goes away and you stop throwing up?"

"That was my plan"

"You're unbelievable."

"Thanks."

Wilson sighed and sat down on the chair next to House who had his head in his hands.

"Stop staring." House said angrily, although it was aimed at the desk rather than Wilson because it hurt too much to look up when the room insisted on spinning like it did – making House nauseous beyond belief.

"Do you need a hand to your office?" Wilson asked tentatively, "at least try and get some rest on your comfy chair." He added seeing House yawn after being up all night.

House looked up at Wilson, intent on letting him know that bribery wouldn't work, but instead he caused alarm bells to go off in Wilson's head, "Whoa, how long has your eye been bloodshot like that?"

"I haven't really been in the mood to look at myself in the mirror lately due to the fact I look like I've been in a fight with Mike Tyson...but by the way you're reaching for your penlight right now, I'm guessing it looks pretty bad huh?" House said sleepily.

"Yeah" Wilson replied as he checked House's pupils, "you should get Foreman to check you out."

"Thanks but he's really not my type."

"You could have brain damage, nerve damage to your eye-"

"Oh stop, you're just mad 'cos I stole back my patient-"

"I'm just mad because you are more worried about your patient than you are about yourself!" Wilson fumed as he stood up, exasperated; he sighed and walked out of the room before he lost his temper with House completely.

House leaned back in the chair and put his hand over his right eye; Wilson was right to be worried, all House could see out of his left eye was a hazy red sheen, 'maybe a call to Foreman would be necessary…' he thought as he groaned and squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the next wave of nausea to pass…

**Author's note – Ok, next chapter is back to Andrew with the ducklings – I haven't forgotten about him! Reviews would be great!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note - Don't worry, before you ask - I haven't forgotten about the dad, next chapter (5) will explain where he is and what he does. ****So enjoy this little filler chapter until I get to that...**

"So who'd you think hit House?" Chase probed as soon as they were clear of the conference room.

"Let me see…lets narrow it down from everyone the man's ever met" Foreman chuckled unsympathetically.

"Maybe it was a hooker…" Chase suggested, obviously finding the whole situation fascinating, "or maybe it was his hooker's pimp..."

"Guys, give him a break – couldn't you see how much pain he was in; he couldn't even stand." Cameron said knowing that they'd still be just as unconcerned.

"I'm sure he brought it on himself" Foreman interjected, "the guy's such an ass I'm surprised he doesn't get laid out more often."

The three of them strolled up to Andrew's room to find Cuddy checking him over; they immediately assumed that she had found out about the biopsy and that they were now in trouble because of what House had told them to do.

Foreman started the offensive while Chase and Cameron busied themselves by taking Andrew's blood; "We didn't find out about the consent until after we'd done the biopsy – and House didn't even bother finding out the results before he left for the night."

"Nice to see he has such loyal staff" Cuddy muttered sarcastically; she was slightly surprised that House hadn't told them what happened in her office the previous night; "I'm letting the consent go – what House did last night was manipulative to say the least…but it worked."

"What House did? He didn't do anything – we were the one's taking the risk, he just hid in his office all day then went home early!" Foreman argued; there was no way he was going to let House get credit when he didn't risk his job to diagnose the kid.

"Is that what House told you happened or is it what you assumed happened?" Cuddy asked enigmatically as she snapped off her latex gloves and disposed of them in the bin, "Is he still here?"

"Yeah, he's probably asleep in his office knowing him." Foreman replied puzzled as to why Cuddy didn't seem angry with them or House.

Cuddy frowned to herself then briskly walked out of the room, leaving Foreman, Cameron and Chase to look at each other in bewilderment; everyone seemed to be acting strange with House today. Foreman took it as his duty to follow Cuddy to find out why everyone was pussyfooting around House; it doesn't take three doctors to get blood after all.

Cameron got the last of the blood they needed to test just as Andrew woke up; she gave her best apologetic smile as she pulled out the needle, "Hey, how are you feeling?"

"Like I've been hit in the chest by a thunderbolt – how are you doing?" He replied groggily as he rubbed his chest.

"Err, I'm good thanks." Cameron replied faltering at the unexpected question; "Where's your dad?"

Andrew screwed his nose up before replying "Probably at work or something…I don't know."

Cameron frowned at Chase who decided to press further, "Did he leave last night or this morning?"

"I'd say he probably left right after he smacked Dr House last night…which you probably didn't know about judging by the way you're freaking me out by staring at me right now…" He replied feeling a little spooked by the way Chase and Cameron had stopped what they were doing and were exchanging weird looks with him.

"Did you just say that your dad hit Dr House?" Chase asked; it wasn't that he didn't believe Andrew; he just didn't want his 'hooker socking House in the face' theory to be proved wrong when it sounded so good.

"That's what Dr Cuddy told me; can you do me a favour and tell him that I'm sorry for setting him up, I should have known that my dad would go ballistic…" Andrew said looking guilty.

"I wouldn't worry about it too much – Dr House gets hit all the time and I'm sure you didn't know your dad was gonna hit him."

"He'd hit anyone if they wound him up enough." Andrew said quietly.

"Are you talking from experience?"

"Experience of what…being hit by my dad?" Andrew didn't sound surprised at the question, "ask Dr House, he asked me the exact same question yesterday..."

Meanwhile back in the conference room…

House was carefully trying to make his way through to his office, there was no way he was going to sit in the ddx room all day when there were comfy chairs waiting in his office; chairs which wouldn't put his ass cheeks to sleep like the hard ones he'd been sitting on for the past 3 hours!

He had gotten as far as the corner of the table when he ran into some problems with gravity; for some reason the floor and ceiling wanted to swap places and this confused his brain slightly, making it impossible to simply walk the five or so steps to his comfy chair.

He stood, or rather, he swayed for ten minutes with one hand holding the corner of the table and the other gripping the corner of the whiteboard; his cane was hooked on the board, ready for a quick retrieval whenever he was ready to make a break for it. He needed to get to the phone, he had to get Foreman down to check his head; something was up and it wasn't going to go away no matter how much he tried to ignore it – at least his leg wasn't to painful today…something must be seriously wrong.

It was at this point in his thought process that Cuddy barged in and busted him; he decided there was no way he was going to make a complete dick of himself by attempting the short distance now and risk falling flat on his face in front of her, so he sat back down on the nearest chair, defeated.

"You're still here." Cuddy stated angrily to House as Foreman followed her in.

"Thanks I was wondering where I was…" He muttered back, keeping his head low; it seemed to hurt more when he tilted his head back to look at people looming over him. 'God knows where I'd be if you hadn't just told me that piece of pointless information.' He thought warily; too tired to really argue with Cuddy and in too much pain to give her a reason to shout some more.

"I called you last night to let you know what happened to Andrew; I didn't expect you to turn up in the middle of the night and stay here – go home, you look awful!"

"You must be psychic" he said to Foreman, ignoring Cuddy, who stood with her arms folded waiting for him to comply with her order; "was about to call you - need a CT scan-"

"The kid's brain is fine." Foreman protested.

"Okay, maybe you're not as psychic as I thought…_I_ need a CT scan - _for me_; is that clearer?" He said a little too loud for his pounding head, causing him to wince.

"Is your head getting worse?" Cuddy asked, a tinge of worry creeping in through the anger in her tone.

"Obviously, do you really think I'd still be here if I could make it home?" He replied, causing Cuddy to drop her sympathetic look and replace it with a scowl.

"You seemed ok last night, bit of a headache – but that's hardly surprising considering you're recovering from a nasty concussion and you haven't slept yet!" She said sternly.

"My headache is getting worse and I'm bleeding into my eye; now I could probably put the headache down to the fact that I'm being shouted at more than usual this morning…but I'd like a scan to make sure it's not some sort of medically serious condition – wouldn't want to stroke out on you before lunch." He said, causing Cuddy to crouch down and check his eye - much to his disapproval.

Foreman looked puzzled; "It's highly unlikely you got a concussion and a bleed in the eye from being punched in the face." He stated as he pulled out his penlight to check House's pupil reactions for himself.

"You haven't told them yet?" House asked Cuddy, slightly surprised by this.

"I was going to wait and see what you told them – didn't want to interfere with whatever macho lie you were planning on feeding them to make yourself look good" Cuddy deadpanned.

"You think getting beaten up by a 6ft ex-marine isn't macho enough…what's a guy gotta do to impress you Cuddy?" He whined softly.

"Papilledema could indicate a rise in intracranial pressure." Foreman said, catching House's attention, "where did you hit your head?"

"In Cuddy's office." House joked dryly before seeing Foreman start to get up, clearly annoyed with his brand of deflective humour; "Just here" he pointed carefully to the lump on the back of his head.

"How long were you out?" Foreman asked, immediately regretting the stupid question, "how long was he out?" he rephrased to Cuddy who could see House scowling at the first question.

"About 20 minutes." She replied, thinking back to the sickening sound of House's head banging against her doorframe – it was even more sickly in hindsight.

"We definatly need a CT scan." Foreman said seriously catching both Cuddy and House's attention, "I think you're bleeding into your brain."


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note - Hopefully this is going at the right speed for you; if it feels like it's dragging on (or going too fast!) just review and let me know...enjoy!**

House sat in the wheelchair waiting for his CT scan; he had protested while in the conference room but Cuddy had insisted, after watching him struggle to even stand without retching, that he 'sit the hell down'. She felt bad enough not checking him over when he finally came to the previous night; now there was the prospect of possible bleeding in his brain…well lets just say she was pleased he was in the hospital and not at home, at least his infuriating actions had lead him to be stuck there.

He and Foreman had been waiting for ten minutes in the hallway already, Foreman could see by House's posture that he was tired, nauseous and in more pain than usual; he had his eyes squeezed shut, held his head in his hands and was resting his elbows on the armrests of the chair.

Foreman was pretty sure that the head in hands part was purely so nobody would recognise him and try to talk to him – 'smart move, save Cuddy having to calm the nurses down at the end of the day after House has ripped them apart with sarcasm' he thought to himself.

"Get Wilson here." House said, breaking the silence that had been delicately maintained so far by the Neurologist. When Foreman didn't reply House spoke again "don't want some greasy intern staring at the contents of my head – got private stuff in there..."

"Sure, I'll page him." Foreman said lightly; knowing full well that House wanted his best friend there for support but was never going to admit that to him…or himself.

"Find out if the blood work is back for Andrew too." House added.

"Yes master." Foreman muttered under his breath as he walked over to the nurse's station to make the relevant calls; he was glad House didn't see the shocked face he had put on when he realised that House actually called a patient by his name – maybe there was some really serious brain damage to be found!

Meanwhile in Andrew's hospital room…

Andrew sat in his hospital bed, monitors beeping, I.V steadily dripping and O2 being pumped up through his nose. He was pretty lonely and wished that he had a room that he shared with someone – anyone would do. He had enjoyed talking to Dr Chase and Dr Cameron; it felt like days, not hours, had gone by since the time they'd left.

He didn't want to watch the T.V; it was something he had managed to get by without for the past 4 years and he was sure there was nothing on there that he wanted to see.

He'd watched some crap yesterday and laughed about it with Dr House who'd told him to take the set with him when he was discharged and that the hospital administrator wouldn't notice but Andrew was pretty sure that amounted to theft even though House tried to convince him otherwise.

He wondered if Dr House was angry with him for not telling him that his dad was violent maybe that's why he hadn't been back to see him; he really hadn't thought that his dad would have hit a cripple, let alone a cripple who was trying to help his son.

He thought back to home and briefly wondered where his dad was now; 'probably going through my room trying to find my stash of money' Andrew thought to himself, 'never going to happen again, after the last time when you took my bank card and the money mom had left me before she died' he thought angrily as he purposefully pulled the pulse ox monitor off of his finger causing two nurses to run in looking alarmed.

"Sorry, must have slipped off – got time for a chat while you're here?" He asked, putting on his best cheeky grin; the nurses couldn't resist his charm and agreed to stay for a while.

Meanwhile at a small house about 6 miles away from PPTH…

Neil Howard was scrambling through his son's bedroom searching for cash; he had managed to completely demolish nearly everything in the room, books, his son's acoustic guitar, even his shoebox full of letter from his brother. He knew that Andrew's older brother had been sending him money on a regular basis and he knew that is wasn't small change either. He needed that money.

He was drunk, angry and scared. 'Why did that idiot doctor make me hit him – why didn't he just shut his damn mouth?' he thought as he tore at the hundreds of books on the bookshelf and threw them on the floor after checking each for any notes that may have been slipped in between the pages. "Where the hell is the money you little rat?" he shouted to the picture of Matthew that Andrew had on his window sill.

Howard hadn't always been like this; it took getting thrown out of the marines, having his wife die of an inoperable brain tumour and finding out she had left her entire life savings to her eldest son for him to break. The day she had found out he had been having an affair while she was ill was the day she went out and changed her policy so that when her eldest son, Matthew, was old enough he would have access to her entire life savings and Neil wouldn't get one penny.

She hadn't mentioned this to Neil while she was alive so naturally he went mad when he found out what she'd done and he threw Matthew out at the age of 16 but got stuck with his younger brother, Andrew, who was aged 10 at the time of his mom's death.

It was from that day Andrew vowed to move out as soon as he was able to; Matthew had been sending him money to make the trip as soon as he reached breaking point with their dad but no sooner. Matthew knew that Andrew was better off with his dad at least until he left school, he couldn't look after his younger brother and be in the army at the same time; however, he was unaware that Andrew had been suffering in his dads care for the past year as he became more and more aggressive and desperate.

Neil Howard was desperate today; he'd beaten up a doctor last night and he was certain that the police would be after him, he had to leave town, and his son, tonight.

But he needed that damn money to do it; he'd have to go back to the hospital to get it…

Back at PPTH…

Wilson had been a little surprised to get the page from Foreman requesting his assistance with a patient in Radiology; he didn't have any patients who would be there, unless House did…'House, shit.'

He sprinted down to Radiology and almost tripped over his friend who was waiting just inside the door of the CT room, still seated uncomfortably in his wheelchair with his head planted almost on his lap.

"What happened – you ok?" Wilson said breathlessly as he managed to stop himself from falling by placing his hands on the wall opposite him.

"Did you run here?" House said questioningly, not even attempting to look up at Wilson's flushed appearance which would have answered his question straight away.

"I thought-it was-an emergency!" Wilson panted, whilst still managing to sound annoyed.

"Do you regularly get calls from Radiology when there's an emergency…are they short staffed or something?" House asked, trying to hide the fact that he was pretty impressed that Wilson had come running to see if he was ok – it was a nice moral boost.

Wilson shot Foreman an accusing glance, "I thought you needed help." Foreman just shrugged and rolled his eyes; pleased that, for once, the ever observant House was unable to see his non verbal communication methods – it was a nice change he thought.

Wilson helped get House settled ready for the scan; he was certain it wasn't normal for someone to turn so green when they were laid on their back, his musings were rewarded when House threw up all down his front.

"Could have given me a little heads up there."

"Hard to talk when the room flips like that – besides you're an Oncologist, you should be used to it by now."

"Good point – doesn't mean I like it though."

"News flash – I'm not too keen on throwing up every five minutes either." House groaned as he squeezed his eyes shut again.

Wilson retired into the small booth to observe the scans with Foreman as they started the procedure...


	6. Chapter 6

Foreman and Wilson studied the CT scan results carefully on the monitor; it made for interesting viewing, at least for Foreman it was interesting – Wilson just felt like there was something off about looking at images of his friend's brain, it was pretty personal when you actually knew the patient.

"Aneurysm…there, see?" Foreman said enthusiastically pointing at the blur on the scan, "…and his cheekbone is definitely broken."

"Oh good, now he owes me lunch and $100." Wilson said light-heartedly; at least the bet he made in the car the previous night was one good thing to come out of this ordeal. No doubt House would feign memory loss or something to get out of it; Wilson certainly wouldn't put it past him, even at a time like this.

"He'll need a ventriculostomy to reduce the intracranial pressure; that should fix the bleed in his eye and then you should start to see an improvement." Foreman instructed as Wilson looked over disbelievingly.

"Um, you're talking as though you're dumping him on me" Wilson said knowing full well that it was Foreman's intention to off load House onto him as soon as possible.

"He's your friend; he's less likely to berate you while you're playing doctor with him." Foreman smirked seeing that Wilson would fold.

"Great, thanks…" Wilson muttered.

"Whoa!" Foreman exclaimed as the imaging went completely blurred on the screen.

"What the-"

"He's seizing!"

They both ran round the booth, after Foreman shut down the scanner, to where House was violently seizing; Foreman frantically trying to get his hands under House's head.

"What are you doing?" Wilson yelled as he made sure House didn't fall off of the gurney.

"Trying to stop him doing any more damage to his head; if he ruptures the aneurysm now, he'll die!"

Meanwhile, downstairs in the clinic area…

Neil Howard stalked through the busy clinic; trying to remain calm on the outside when he was edgy and nervous on the inside. He was continually watching and waiting for someone to question him or worse; for the police, who he was sure were after him, to jump out and arrest him for assaulting the doctor.

He was ready for them though; he wouldn't go quietly, not with his .45 in his pocket. Something inside of him had snapped; seeing his son in hospital only reminded him of his wife when she was ill – when she had tricked him and cut him out of her life after his affair. He wanted out and he was going to rob his youngest son of his life savings, again, to escape from his responsibilities as a parent. Only this time he wouldn't spend them on drinking and betting; he was going to find Matthew – and teach him a very important lesson; don't screw your father over.

But first a trip to see Dr Cuddy…

Cuddy sighed warily as she attempted to plough through the mountains of paper work on her desk; at least House hadn't given her any more sick forms to fill in on top of the stacks she had from other doctors – technically he was still at work, even if he wasn't actually working!

She frowned as she spotted the elusive Mr Howard approaching her office; he'd left his son after some very traumatic news and hadn't bothered to return for 12 hours, which deserved a severe telling off in Cuddy's mind.

"Mr Howard." She started pleasantly enough to lure him into a false sense of security, "what can I do for you?"

"Where's my son – you've moved his room." Howard growled, slurring slightly.

"You're drunk?" Cuddy questioned unbelievingly, "Your son has just been told he has cancer and you're drunk."

"I need to see him – where have you put him?" Howard said whilst eyeing the door behind him suspiciously.

"He's in the same room he was yesterday." Cuddy said, "are you sure he isn't there?"

"I looked – he's been moved, I need to see him right now." Howard said shakily, sweat pouring off his brow.

"Is something wrong?" Cuddy asked, not sure she really wanted to know; strange behaviour was usually indicative of something bad in her experience and this guy was really starting to scare her.

"Let's go and find his doctors shall we – they've probably taken him for some more tests or something." She said, silently begging him to follow her into the busy hospital; something about being in her secluded office with Howard was bugging her.

"Okay…" he mumbled as he got up to follow her out of the room…

Meanwhile, on the 4th floor – Diagnostics department…

"Andrew, you're not supposed to be in here buddy." Chase said sternly as he saw the teenager wander into House's office and walk to the door of the conference room.

"Sorry, I was looking for Dr House – wanted to say sorry." Andrew said apologetically as he sat down at the table, pulling over the journal that someone had left lying around.

"Who unhooked you?" Chase enquired as he noticed the lack of leads that had been attached to Andrew just 4 hours before.

"Nurses." He replied with a grin, "I promised them I wouldn't go far…that was about 15 minutes ago"

"Bored huh?"

"Yeah and I wanted to find Dr House."

"You're not the only one" Cameron added as she entered the room carrying Andrew's lab work, "he's disappeared off the face of the earth."

"Have you tried Wilson's office?"

"No I thought I'd leave all the obvious places 'till last." Cameron said sarcastically as she rolled her eyes at Chase who looked pretty gob smacked that she'd snarked at him House style.

"Wow, it was almost like House was back in the room." He replied jokingly as he sat next to Andrew to look at the interesting article on bone fractures in the journal.

"Got Andrew's blood work back…" Cameron said as she attempted to get Chase's attention by waving the file in front of his face.

"And?"

"We can't really talk about it in front of the patient." She said, causing Andrew to look up from the journal momentarily.

"I doubt I'd have a clue what you're on about – so go for it." He offered, letting them know that he was ok with whatever they wanted to do as long as he didn't have to leave, "I'll try not to listen"

"Okay…well House was wrong about the Anaemia; for one thing – it's not improving with our treatment at all." She started, showing Chase the labs.

"I'm sure House won't see it that way." Chase muttered in reply as he saw Cuddy approaching the conference room with Mr Howard in tow…

At the same time back in Radiology…

"House, seriously just answer the questions – do you know where you are?" Foreman asked impatiently; House was mumbling something about his patient which made no sense to Foreman or Wilson at all. They were both worried that maybe he'd done more damage during the seizure than they'd been able to keep him from doing to himself.

"Anaemia…it's his iron…take…" House mumbled weakly.

"Where are you House?" Wilson said loudly and clearly; which seemed to work as House sighed angrily and replied, his strength coming back slowly but surely.

"Hospital."

"Do you know what just happened?"

"Seizure."

"Congratulations, you've just won a speedboat." Wilson said smirking as he said it; glad his friend seemed to be as coherent as he should be.

"Thanks."

"Okay, we've got to get you a gurney."

"No – just get the chair." House groaned as he opened his eyes, "can't lay down, it's killing my head..."

Wilson looked to Foreman who nodded his approval.

"It's probably better that he sits anyway – I'll get a room set up and you can bring him down when you're ready." Foreman said as he completed his neurological checks on House, "Squeeze my hands."

"Get my patient on treatment for Iron deficiency Anaemia." House said to Wilson whilst Foreman pulled him to an upright sitting position by his wrists.

"Squeeze both hands House" Foreman said getting agitated that House was ignoring him.

"I am…" House said, looking momentarily worried; "Todd's paresis – my right side is temporarily rendered next to useless…how will I live?" House feigned being upset at the thought on the outside but secretly was worried out of his mind; 'shit, please be temporary!' he thought frantically, remaining calm as he could see Wilson looking startled enough already.

"Nice of you to let me know." Foreman said angrily, "any other neurological symptoms you think I might like to know about while I'm here?"

"I know you like holding my hand, but really Foreman it can never be – you're my employee and I'm older than you…it really wouldn't work out." House said sincerely before Foreman let go of his hands and rolled his eyes in frustration.

"I'll set up the room and _you_ can bring _your_ patient along whenever you're ready." He said forcefully to Wilson as he left, taking House's scans out with him.

"I think you may have upset him." Wilson stated as he dragged the wheel chair over to where House was precariously situated on the edge of the scanner's bed. It only took an accidental brush of Wilson's arm to knock House off balance and almost send him tumbling to the floor; if it hadn't been for Wilson's quick reactions, House would certainly have landed very painfully, flat on his face.

"Oops." House stated flatly.

"You couldn't even keep yourself upright?" Wilson asked shocked as he held House on the bed by his shoulder.

"Apparently not…"

"Doesn't that worry you just a little?"

"Terrifies me." House said bluntly, looking up at Wilson for the first time since they'd been in the CT room. Wilson could see the fear in House's good eye, the left one was now completely filled with blood.

"The sooner we get you in this chair; the sooner we can lower the pressure of the bleed in your brain." Wilson said supportively; he wasn't sure whether or not to address House's last comment and he defiantly didn't know what to say to reassure him.

"Shame, I was enjoying the whole blindness in one eye thing – made the nausea go down to a much more comfortable level."

"I'll buy you an eye patch."

"Cool." House smirked as he held out his left arm ready for Wilson to help him into the chair.

"You know I could have gotten someone in to help!" Wilson gasped as he nearly landed in the chair on top of House.

"Pfft, you might like the nurses groping you – doesn't mean I do."

Wilson ignored the comment, brushed himself off, let off the brakes on the wheelchair and backed them out of the room.

"Go via my office." House instructed, "Got to see how my patients doing."

"I'm sure he's doing a lot better than you."

"Doesn't anybody care about patients any more?" House mumbled as he attempted to grab at the phone at the nurses desk in Radiology.

"What are you doing?" Wilson cried when the phone brought down an avalanche of papers from the desk that had become caught in the line.

"Ringing my lackeys to let them know what's wrong with my patient…" House said as he started pressing numbers into the phone then cancelling the call repeatedly.

"Because you're worried about your patient?" Wilson asked in a disbelieving tone, "or because you just want to rub their noses in the fact that you diagnosed him whilst seizing in a CT scanner?"

"What do you think? Quick, what's the number, before they figure it out for themselves!" House held the phone out ready to dial.

"230"

"Huh" House said whilst staring at the phone looking puzzled.

"I said 230" Wilson said a little louder.

"I heard what you said…I just…can't tell which number is which…" House said hesitantly, his hand shaking as his eyes bore a hole in the plastic receiver that he used every day; Wilson was glad House couldn't see him grimace as he gripped the handles of the chair tightly in anxiety for his friend.

"We'll go up there and tell them in person." Wilson said as he took the phone out of House's hand and placed it back on the nurses station; he shot an apologetic look to the poor nurse who had just discovered the pile of files strewn about the floor and was shaking her head in disbelief, "We're going, ok House?"

House didn't reply, his mind was in turmoil; 'Oh God, I can't even read numbers – shit, brain damage - hopefully not permanent - please don't be permanent…shit…"


	7. Chapter 7

Cuddy entered the conference room with her hands held out in exasperation aimed at Chase and Cameron; Mr Howard waited outside nervously, his eyes franticly scanning the hallway for signs of security or the cops.

"Mr Howard has been looking for his son – who isn't in his room" Cuddy stated to Cameron and Chase who both stood looking guiltily at Andrew, who continued reading the journal intently, "is there any reason why he's in here – or is he acting as Foreman's replacement while he's busy?" she hissed angrily.

"Err, no – we just started the differential and, err, he turned up." Cameron stuttered as she turned to Chase for help.

"Any idea where Foreman and House are?" He attempted to change the subject abruptly as the three of them went into House's office for more privacy.

"Radiology." Cuddy offered no further explanation; she had almost forgotten about House and his appointment with a brain scan until now – she made a mental note to call him and see what was going on in that head of his...better yet, she'd call Foreman and get the truth!

Both Cameron and Chase were giving her questioning looks; Cuddy swore she could hear the cogs in their heads turning slowly as they processed what she had told them – she waited for the inevitable statement.

"We don't have a patient in radiology." Cameron said, breaking the silence.

"Foreman is checking House over." Cuddy hoped she said it with enough distain that it would stop Cameron asking the next obvious question…

"Is he ok?"

…it didn't work. Cuddy sighed slightly and attempted to get back to the task at hand, "he's fine – get Andrew back to his room, he should be monitored at all times; the last thing we need is his father suing us because his son has died in a conference room."

"I don't think that's going to happen." Chase said calmly as he motioned through the glass wall; Cuddy and Cameron turned to look at what he was staring at in shock.

All three doctors now faced the scene; Andrew's dad was holding his son's collar and was waving a gun around franticly. Surprisingly, it was Andrew who looked the calmest out of the two and he seemed to be trying to talk to his dad quietly; clearly he was used to this kind of behaviour. They flinched when they heard Howard shout "what do you mean you gave it to him – where is he?"

"I'm calling security." Cuddy said as she quickly made her way to the phone on House's desk; Cameron and Chase broke off looking at Howard briefly to watch her.

"Oh God" Cameron said softly as she looked back to the conference room and saw Howard staring at them; he wasted no time in joining them in the office, gun in hand – pointing at Cuddy...

A few floors above…

"How are you feeling?" Wilson asked as he and House boarded the elevator; he was rewarded with a half hearted grunt as he stood beside the wheelchair and pressed the button for the 4th floor.

Wilson hated the uncomfortable and uncharacteristic silence that he was being subjected to on the journey to the 4th floor; he stepped back slightly and glanced at House, hoping he wouldn't notice. House was swaying slightly in the chair, face screwed up in concentration as he absently flexed his right hand. Wilson first thought was that he was in pain and he was about to say something until he saw where House's eyes were actually focussed – they were following the numbers on the elevator control panel as they lit up floor by floor. 'Guess you're more worried about that than you really want to let on' Wilson thought nervously as he shifted from one foot to the other, unconsciously fidgeting as he pondered over House's state of mind.

"Stop it." House stated causing Wilson to jump a little.

"What?" He managed to reply sounding innocent.

"Staring at me like I'm some kind of mental patient."

"I wasn't staring at you – I was admiring your break…and I don't stare at the mentally incapable either" Wilson covered by pressing two fingers against House's cheek, causing him to flinch in pain, "sorry – but you realise you lost the bet" he said as he smiled apologetically.

"You realise I can't pay you 'till I can actually recognise numbers again – unless you want to rip me off big time…I know I would." House stated bitterly as he attempted to repay the smile with a lopsided grin while trying not to hurt his face; he failed miserably and was glad when the elevator reached its destination and the doors opened to reveal the fourth floor.

"Do you still want to see your team?" Wilson asked as he made a point of pushing House in the opposite direction to where he wanted to go; he didn't give House a chance to answer or object as he wheeled him into the room where Foreman was drawing up his meds.

Foreman looked just as annoyed as he had done previously, in the CT room, Wilson noted as he watched him placing several syringes on the small metal tray; he'd probably rather be dealing with the young kid with Cameron and Chase instead of his boss...mind you, nobody in their right mind would willingly choose House as a patient. Obviously he wouldn't welcome it if Wilson were to subtly let him know that there were other patients in the hospital who needed Oncologists and House wasn't one of them right now.

House looked at the syringes with interest, "antiemetic?" he asked as he pointed to the one filled on the right; Foreman nodded in response but didn't bother to stop what he was doing – he wanted to get this over with as soon as possible.

"You still nauseous?" Wilson asked, thinking that this was just House's way of letting him know; House nodded carefully in response, "think we can get you into bed before we start pumping you full of drugs?" House shrugged and held his arm out for Wilson to grab hold of – 'only one way to find out' he thought.

Wilson managed to get House to the edge of the bed before he was forced to ask for Foreman's help; it became clear that House didn't have the strength in his right arm to push himself up the rest of the way and Wilson could see that he was angry at his powerlessness.

"I've requested that no one comes in here – I told the nurses that House has been experimenting with pain meds, he's got a killer headache and that he's trying to sleep it off." Foreman said reassuringly as he helped House onto the bed.

He then stripped House down to just his t-shirt and rolled the sleeve up to inject the antiematic; "hang on – I've got an anti-convulsant here too" he said before House could pull the sleeve back down; House paused and took the empty packet from the tray.

"Phenytoin?" House asked as he read the label on the packet. Foreman frowned, why was House intent on questioning everything all of a sudden – didn't he trust him?

"He can't recognise numbers" Wilson said, as if he'd just read Foreman's mind, "big medical words don't seem like too much of a problem though…"

"Slight aphasia is normal; it should correct itself within a few hours…I wouldn't worry about it." Foreman replied sounding confident as he injected the anti-convulsant.

"Who's worried…Wilson was just getting used the thought that he might actually beat me at poker…" House said dryly as he tossed the packet towards Wilson, missing completely, but causing himself to nearly fall off the bed - 'Shit'

"How long does the paralysis last?" he asked wearily as he caught himself on the rail of the bed just in time with his left arm; also finding time to give Wilson a glowering look, as though it was Wilson's fault that he nearly fell.

"Could be a few hours…could be days." Foreman shrugged.

"I can see how Chase gets all the best patient reviews and you don't." House muttered as Wilson forced him to lay down by placing a hand on his shoulder, "speaking of which – what's happening to my patient?"

"I haven't had a chance to check up on him yet…been a little busy this afternoon in case you haven't noticed." Foreman stated as if he was talking to a troublesome child.

"Well why don't you go and find out – Wilson can play doctor while you're gone" House replied in the same voice as Foreman had used, "don't worry I'll make sure he doesn't touch any of the big drills 'till you get back" he stage whispered when it didn't look like Foreman was going to move.

"Tell them to treat him for Iron deficiency Anaemia…" House added, almost as an afterthought, "then you can drill a hole into my head."

"We're not drilling into your brain – I thought we'd go for coil embolization instead." Foreman said as he chucked the used needles in the refuge box on the wall, "don't go anywhere." He called back as he left the room, presumably to actually pass on House's diagnosis - although it wasn't clear if he was talking to House or Wilson.

Foreman didn't make it far when he almost ran into the mini-mob of people storming from the conference room; Cuddy was leading with the patient's dad, they were closely followed by Cameron and Chase who both looked like they had seen a ghost, then at the rear was the patient himself. It wasn't the largest welcoming party he'd ever encountered but it came pretty close to being the weirdest! Foreman gave his two colleagues a questioning look – they didn't have time to fill him in before Cuddy grabbed his arm.

"Where's House?" she hissed; 'surely House couldn't have pissed her off already – he hasn't even seen the patient today!' Foreman thought as he tried to figure out what was going on as Cuddy held onto his arm for dear life.

"He's a little busy right now." It was a feeble reply and he wasn't surprised that she didn't buy it; she glared at him, making him uneasy to say the least, "room 312" he conceded. To have House mad at him was normal, to have Cuddy mad at him…let's just say that it was something best left to House to deal with as he must be used to it by now!

The party resumed their march towards House's room, this time with Foreman leading; he couldn't help feeling that there was something strange going on and that it wouldn't end well for any of them…especially House.


	8. Chapter 8

"Foreman, you've outdone yourself." House said with a distinct lack of humour as he watched the drabble of people pour into his room. Foreman shrugged and held up his hands as if to say 'don't ask me!'

Neither of them had time to elaborate on their exchange before Howard roughly pushed Chase and Cameron in the direction of the window. Wilson and House shared a similar confused look as they observed the strange behaviour; House had a bad feeling that his day was about to get considerably worse. He decided that if he stared at Cuddy long enough she'd fill him in; Wilson decided to use the same tactic.

"What's going on?" Wilson asked after a few seconds, fearing that if he didn't ask, they'd end up staring at each other all day and he had places to go, people with cancer to console!

"Mr Howard would like his son's money." Cuddy said shakily as she motioned from Howard to Andrew and then looked expectantly to House.

"Well thanks for letting us know…" House stated monotonously, looking at Cuddy as if she were insane, "now if you don't mind I've got a date with a catheter" he laid back, signalling the end of the conversation…no one made a move except Foreman who was quickly stopped in his tracks when Howard whipped out his gun and aimed it at his chest.

"Just get over there with the other two - and give me your phone." Howard slurred as he held his hand out for Foreman's phone; the tension in the room quadrupled in those 2 seconds.

Foreman handed over his pager, since he didn't have his phone with him, he figured that a pager was a good trade for not getting shot by the lunatic with the gun. He put his hand on Andrew's shoulder and led him over to the window too; there was no way he was going to let him be intimidated by his crazy dad, the boy had enough problems as it was.

Wilson slowly reached for his pager, hoping Howard wouldn't notice; Cuddy shot him a look which made him think twice about trying to use it - instead he opted to place it carefully on the metal table beside House's bed, out of sight.

"You" Howard said whilst pointing at Wilson, "yours too"

Wilson slowly reached for his cell phone and handed it over; he noticed that as well as slurring badly, Howard was sweating and shaking - drunk.

House, who had been holding his tongue for at least the last 30 seconds, was quickly becoming agitated with his new room mates; especially the one with the gun who had assaulted him the previous night. "What is it that you want again?"

"I want the money that my son gave you to hide for him." Howard spat back as he double checked that the blinds were definitely closed; fortunately for him, Foreman had done a good job in keeping everyone away by practically sealing the room off from the rest of the hospital.

"Sorry, you'll have to speak up - I'm bleeding into my brain…" House said casually, making Cuddy, Chase and Cameron gasp in unison; it wasn't the fact that House was actually bleeding into his brain that shocked them - it was nerve he showed by being obnoxious to the guy holding a gun to his head, did he have a death wish?

"Just tell me where the damn money is-"

"Or what? You'll shoot me? Hit me again?" House laughed; Cuddy stared open mouthed, stunned, thinking how typical it was that House had chosen this moment to completely lose his mind, "I'm dead either way; you've got about 5 minutes before the bleed in my brain kills me - you want to shoot me before that, go ahead!" House stated forcefully, trying to out-stare Howard with his good eye.

"What's he talking about?" Howard questioned nervously, freaked out by the ferocity of House's little speech - he wasn't supposed to be scared; he had the gun!

"When he fell yesterday, he hit his head - he needs us to relieve the pressure from the bleed in his brain or he'll die." Wilson said as sternly as he dared while there was a gun now pointed in his direction.

"I only hit him once - I didn't think he'd fall-look just tell me where the money is!" Howard was distressed and waving the gun around in a panic, the four doctors by the window ducked as it aimed in their direction and Wilson took the opportunity to attempt to quietly pick up his pager from the metal table behind his back.

The Oncologist was distracted from his fumbling when he heard House gasping for air behind him; he spun round in time to catch him before he keeled over the edge of the bed seemingly unconscious, "House!" Wilson tried to rouse him by gently shaking his shoulders but House was well and truly out of it.

"What's he doing?" Howard asked nervously as he stopped waving the gun around and focussed his attention back on House.

"Seems he was optimistic about the five minute mark" Wilson said, the panic in his voice clear as he lay House back down and fumbled for his pulse, "I think he just had a stroke."

"Wake him up!" Howard screamed, losing all composure now that his key to freedom had lost consciousness; he knew that if he didn't get that money now then he'd have no chance of getting away from the cops, "bring him back!" he pointed to Foreman as if he expected him to help somehow.

Foreman stood warily, "he needs oxygen and then we need to get the clot out" he said pointing to the stuff he'd laid out for House before they'd all arrived, not wanting to simply pick up the equipment and get shot in the process, "I'll need help"

Howard nodded and backed himself up against the door as Foreman quickly motioned to Chase to get up too; Cameron would probably be pissed that he'd asked Chase considering this was her big chance to shine by saving her boss - Foreman decided he could live with that, Chase was more reliable in a crisis!

Chase wasn't too happy at being selected though as he tried to sort out House's laboured breathing; his hands were shaking and he was nervous as hell. What was it his lecturer had told him to do when he was nervous…'imagine everyone in the room is naked'. He dropped the o2 mask twice before he managed to secure it; the 'thinking naked plan' wasn't helping at all; the image of Cameron and Cuddy both naked in the same room was making him more unfocussed than before!

Foreman ignored Chase's obvious tension as he attempted to make sure House was stable, "we need to link him up" he said to Howard, who shook his head in disagreement when he looked at the monitors.

"Do you think I'm stupid - those machines are linked to alarms out there" he pointed out towards the nurse's station, "No machines."

"How do you expect us to do this - can we use the sonogram at least!" Foreman said exasperatedly.

"Is there one in this room?" Howard said, expecting Foreman to say no.

"Yeah - right there."

Howard made a point of examining the apparatus thoroughly although even he was unsure of what he was actually looking for, "use that - but nothing else" he grunted, seemingly satisfied with finding nothing that may be used to contact the outside world.

Foreman picked up the small micro catheter that he had chosen for the op and regarded it; either this would save House or…he didn't really want to think about the other option.

He briefed Wilson and Chase on what they had to do; no machines meant that they had to monitor House's blood pressure, heart rate and breathing manually, this was more than one step beyond dangerous - it was madness, House would love it…


	9. Chapter 9

"If he wakes up, make sure he stays still." Foreman ordered as he pulled House's jeans off and chose the catheter insertion area in his groin; Cameron and Cuddy had shown the decency to turn away, even though House still had his boxers on.

"Can't you sedate him?" Cuddy asked, still turned away from the bed, but glancing back occasionally to see what was going on.

"Ideally we need him to be awake for this; plus, if we sedate him, he won't wake up for a while – I don't want to be stuck in here waiting for him to wake up." Foreman said nervously as he spared a look at Howard, who was impatiently waiting by the door.

Wilson cleared his throat loudly, catching everyone's attention. "You'd better start soon – his right eye is filling up quick" he said calmly as he double checked House's pupils to make sure he wasn't mistaken.

Foreman, jumping into action, swabbed the area of insertion with a numbing agent then lowered the head of the bed and began the procedure with Chase and Wilson assisting as best they could by taking the pillows away and monitoring the patient. The doctors were aware that as soon as Foreman sealed the aneurysms they had to reduce the inter-cranial pressure with the I.V fluids asap or House would end up needing serious surgery.

Cuddy observed the procedure from her position on the floor, by the window; she had to watch, not because she doubted the ability of her best doctors, she just needed to know what was happening.

She watched Wilson as he juggled holding House's head still, checking his pupils every two minutes and holding the receiver on House's head for Foreman to get the imaging from for the procedure.

She was unable to see Chase clearly as he had his back to her; he was in charge of the o2 mask and taking House's pulse; he seemed overly tense all of a sudden when he made a point of wiping his hand on the side of his coat then reapplying it to House's neck, his own pulse messing with his concentration.

It was dedication at the highest level and Cuddy could only think how proud she felt that these were her doctors working so efficiently under impossible circumstances.

Cuddy's intense viewing was interrupted by a gasp from Cameron as Andrew slumped forward, seemingly asleep; it broke the silence in the room and was enough to get Howard agitated again.

"What are you doing?" He asked angrily as he saw Cuddy and Cameron carefully lay Andrew flat on the floor and start taking his vitals; they both ignored him and carried on, "what is he doing?" he pressed again, pointing the gun at them in an idle threat.

"He's unconscious." Cuddy snapped back at him; this man was really getting on her nerves now and she wanted to shove that stupid gun where the sun doesn't shine, "probably passed out from the shock of seeing his father holding a gun to his doctors!"

"Stupid child." Howard muttered, making Cuddy even more disgusted.

"I think he's in a coma…" Cameron said quietly as she tried, unsuccessfully, to rouse Andrew from his deep sleep.

"House said he had Anaemia." Cuddy stated; Cameron shook her head in disagreement.

"He didn't respond to treatment."

Wilson, who had been listening in whilst performing his 'juggling House' act, cut in - "its Iron deficiency Anaemia – he'll be ok when you get him on the right I.V."

"Are you sure?" Cameron asked disbelievingly, never the optimist she made out she was.

"House was sure." Wilson replied flatly, turning back to the task at hand; this seemed to satisfy Cuddy who left it to Cameron to keep Andrew stable whilst she stood up to take a better look at her diagnostician on the bed.

"How far along are we?" Chase asked urgently from his position by House's head.

"I'm there – don't rush me, I don't want to be the one to brain damage the guy!" Foreman responded sounding slightly annoyed that Chase had broken his concentration to ask questions.

"His pulse is all over the shop – he's gonna be brain damaged anyway if he can't get enough oxygen to his brain." Chase said frankly as he rubbed his fingers along the vein in House's neck, attempting to help the blood flow along. He didn't like the fact that his mentor's skin was becoming cold and clammy and his breathing seemed to be more and more laboured; he definitely didn't want to think about what Howard would do if House died now...

"Chase! Can you keep him stable for 2 minutes?" Foreman asked again, failing to keep the hint of panic out of his voice as he attempted to speed up the procedure without killing the patient.

Chase nodded and switched the o2 mask he had been using to a bag valve mask; if House couldn't breathe in enough oxygen on his own then Chase would have to pump it for him until the aneurysms were dealt with.

It was a tense few minutes as Foreman tried to remain calm under pressure while holding his boss' life in his hands; if he brain damaged House now, neither of their lives would be worth living! He managed to get rid of the threat of the second aneurysm just as a small groan was heard from under the o2 mask.

"He's waking up." Wilson said calmly, looking to Foreman as he started to pull out the micro-catheter slowly, "Chase, get the I.V set up."

Chase made some quick checks before he dared to stop pumping the o2 mask; House's pulse was stronger but still irregular, not enough to require immediate panic though. He hurriedly grabbed the I.V treatment that Foreman had conveniently set up earlier; in his haste to ship House out of his care as soon as possible, Foreman had made the room ideally suited for an emergency – at least one good thing had come out of House being a crappy patient!

"Is he awake?" Howard's voice cut through the tense atmosphere like a knife; the doctor's glared at him as they made it clear they were more worried about getting the I.V in than entertaining him with an answer.

"House can you hear me?" Foreman asked; he didn't want to admit it out loud but he was worried about long term brain issues from the apparent stroke House had suffered.

House tried to clear his throat and then he mumbled something incoherent; he hadn't made an attempt to open his eyes as of yet, so Wilson stood back to allow Foreman to check his pupils.

"The meds should reduce the bleed over the next hour or so; then you'll regain your vision" Foreman reassured everyone as he carried out his checks.

"I don't have time for this!" Howard cried as he pulled Foreman and Wilson out of the way in frustration so that he could get to House, "where is the money?"

House frowned, eyes still closed; then he replied, to the surprise of his colleagues "He's still here?"

"Where is the money?" Howard practically screamed whilst grabbing House by his shoulder and aiming the gun back to his head.

"You waited all this time for him to wake up and now you're going to shoot him?" Foreman said in a condescending tone of voice, enraging Howard further.

"I'm not going to shoot him – but I can shoot every one of you until he tells me." Howard said soberly as he aimed the gun at his first victim…Bang!

**Author's Note: I am mean! Next update will be very soon - I won't leave you guys hanging too long...**


	10. Chapter 10

Bang!

Howard stumbled forward, grabbing his head in the place where he'd just felt a heavy object hit it; his hand came away covered in blood, "What the-" he managed to groan before being thrown roughly to the ground and disarmed by 2 security guards who had conveniently chosen that second to sneak into the room.

Cuddy stared open mouthed at her normally placid Oncologist who had just managed to save Chase from getting shot; Wilson returned her stare with a slight grin, still holding the small metal table in one hand, admiring his handy work.

House opened his partially good eye and squinted, his curiosity getting the better of him, "Put the table down Wilson." he said bluntly when the figure of Wilson became clearer in his vision.

Wilson automatically complied, still grinning to himself; he had taken it upon himself to act when Howard had pointed the gun at Chase and was pleased that he'd managed to stun him quick enough for security to disarm him.

Luckily the table was the nearest weapon and Howard had been too busy shaking up House to notice Wilson lifting it above his head. Security had entered the room quietly and looked thoroughly confused as to why there were 4 doctors, 2 patients and 1 suspicious looking armed man in there; they'd received a cryptic page about 2 minutes earlier from Dr Wilson saying 'rm312 urgnt'. Fortunately, they had seen enough to know what to do when Wilson swung the table; Cuddy wasn't completely clueless when it came to hiring ex-cops as security.

They picked up Howard, who looked as though he'd have a nasty concussion later, House noted; then they led him away after checking with Cuddy that there were no other matters they were required to deal with. Cuddy waved them off with instructions to call the cops and get Howard behind bars as soon as possible.

"Cameron, Chase – get Andrew to his room; Wilson, Foreman – make sure House is ok." Cuddy ordered, attempting to bring some movement from the room; so far the only one who had moved was Wilson, and that was to drop the table.

The four doctors shook themselves out of their shocked states and quickly went about following orders; Chase and Cameron rushed out to find Andrew a gurney, but not before taking the time to clarify the diagnosis with House.

"You knew he had Iron deficiency Anaemia all along didn't you?" Cameron asked House as she helped Chase lift Andrew onto the gurney.

"Is that a question or a statement?" House replied lazily.

"You wanted to keep him in." Cameron said, smiling and making House uncomfortable, "you knew his dad was abusing him."

"House?" Cuddy cut in, unable to contain her anger, "you knew he was getting abused?"

"I never said that – she did." House replied defensively, wincing at the level of Cuddy's voice; his head was still sore and he felt somewhat hungover.

"Is it true?"

"No! I didn't figure out the Anaemia part 'till this morning."

"I meant the abuse part!"

"I know what you meant." House said calmly, "I would have said something when he was discharged – I didn't figure that his dad was going to come looking for the money."

"What money was he after?" Cuddy asked; clearly she wasn't going to get a straight answer about the abuse from House any time soon, she didn't really want one either; House did things for a reason and she'd rather not know the logic behind his latest cover up.

"If I told you it was Grandma's birthday money I'm guessing you won't buy it?" House asked; Cuddy crossed her arms over her chest in an attempt to look intimidating. "Okay, it was some money he was sent by his brother, Martin-"

"Matthew." Cuddy corrected.

"Whatever – he didn't want the old man to find it; I guess he wasn't as well off as he made out he was...anyway, I told him I'd keep it safe for him..."

"Where?"

"I can't tell you – it's a secret." House stage whispered dramatically.

"House."

"It's safe – in my bank account." House insisted, catching the surprised look Cuddy and Wilson used when they processed this news, "what? Did you expect me to bury it somewhere in the hospital? This isn't the middle ages people!"

"It just sound's so...sensible." Wilson said, looking about as surprised as if House had just admitted to spending all the money on hookers...

"Yeah, well – twelve grand packs a lotta interest."

"Twelve thousand Dollars?" Cuddy and Wilson questioned simultaneously, "I'd better go and sort out the cops." Cuddy said as she attempted to understand why anyone in their right mind would trust House to look after $12,000.

"You're not joking are you?" Wilson said as he pulled House up by his shoulder in an attempt to get him under the covers; he wouldn't say anything to draw attention to it but House had been talking to Cuddy without even trying to cover up what dignity he had left from the impromptu operation.

"No... and where are my pants?" He asked, trying to regain his lost composure; 'damn, Cameron and Cuddy must not have known where to look' he thought, his cheeks flushing in embarrassment; for some reason, unbeknown to him, he could swear that his lower half felt almost numb! "What did you do to me?" he asked quietly, trying not to sound too worried.

"What's wrong?" Wilson said, immediately in panic mode.

"Well, lets see shall we; I pass out, fully clothed and when I wake up, I'm half naked and numb in the lower extremities...I'm pretty sure that's bad right?"

Wilson sighed in relief as he located House's jeans crumpled up in a heap beside the bed; "it's a good thing – trust me." he said as he hooked his finger in the belt hoop and passed the jeans to House, who frowned as he took them.

"What's wrong now?" Wilson asked nervously when House made a point of lifting the jeans up off the bed and putting them back several times.

House scared him further by grabbing his hands and turning to face him with a weird smirk on his face; Wilson hoped he wasn't about to burst into some kind of poetry, then he'd be certain he was brain damaged!

Instead, House squeezed Wilson's hands making him yelp out in pain and pull them back, "what was that for?" he said angrily as he rubbed his sore fingers trying to soothe the pain.

"No more paralysis." House grinned unapologetically.

"You couldn't have just told me?" Wilson said; he sounded annoyed but House could tell that he was pleased.

"If I'd just told you, you'd definitely think I was brain damaged."

"That's true." Wilson conceded as he rolled his eyes yet again; "Were you really going to tell Cuddy about the abuse?"

"He asked me not to – kinda mean to lie to a sick kid don't you think?"

"Yeah I can see how tormented you were over the secrecy keeping." Wilson said sarcastically.

"I never lie!" House said dramatically, "I have been known to withhold the truth from time to time though..."

"You could have died trying to save this kid – what, has he got spoilers for the new episodes of the O.C you were desperate to know about or something?"

House simply grinned and relaxed on the bed, "Hey, he's gotten me out of Clinic for at least a month - it was so worth it!"

"Yeah, possible brain damage and near death experiences – much better than having to do 6 hours of Clinic a week."

"Knew you'd understand." House replied tiredly, already slowly drifting off into sleep; the past two days obviously taking their toll on the poor guy...

The End!

**Author's Note: Thanks for reading! I don't know how this became such a long story when I originally planned on it being a one-shot; must be down to the many people who reviewed and asked me to continue...hope I didn't disappoint. **

**Next story coming soon – it's bound to be a House!hurt fic – I can't help it, I'm sadistic...**

**Special thanks to Radon65, Embeer2004, BlkDiamond, SamBell, Aqua Mage, Boys Don't Cry, Kyla Ryan, Wuchel1, Labyrinth38, Nayvera and bmax – my regular reviewers (cheers to everyone else who reviewed too-it means a lot!) See you next time I hope!**


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